


Lost in Vegas

by 221A_brina, OllyJay



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-04 08:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10987566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221A_brina/pseuds/221A_brina, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OllyJay/pseuds/OllyJay
Summary: In a tale as old as time… girl meets boy… boy does something foolish (because it is ALWAYS his fault)… boy loses girl… two wonderful people find girl… girl is sent back to boy…  And they all live happily ever after ❤️❤️❤️For the ever delightful leafingbookstea and our very own 'Mr B' for services rendered.  'Happy Birthday' leafingbookstea ❤️❤️❤️This fic requires no disclosures in respect of angst or damage to limbs and is suitable for even the most sensitive amongst us - not that I'm looking at anyone in particular;  )DISCLOSURE UPDATE:It would appear that I was wrong to declare this angst-free.Please be advised that if you have strong opinions regarding the correct method of brewing tea you may require a support person whilst reading Chapter One.





	1. So, the other day when I was in Vegas...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leafingbookstea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leafingbookstea/gifts).



> With thanks to 221A_brina for her invaluable input ❤️❤️❤️ I am **always** willing to share the blame around - LOL  
>  **UPDATE:** I'm sorry 221A_brina coming up with one plot device is being helpful... coming up with a brilliant solution to a key plot gap? That makes you co-author! ; )

Jack watched San Francisco disappear into the early morning fog. She hadn’t turned up. He hadn’t expected her to. But he had hoped. He cast one last lingering look in the direction of the shore before heading down to his cabin. What cannot be cured must be endured.

It was quite possible he had never hated a proverb more.

*****

Phryne woke on her stomach, a splitting headache behind her eyes and a mouth like sandpaper. Experience told her the evening had not ended well. Without opening her eyes, she could tell this was not her room. She could feel her foot dangling out of the bed on her right so she reached her left hand out tentatively… the other side was not only currently unoccupied, the arrangement of the blankets suggested that it had been so all night. That was some solace, at least.

Coming slowly back to awareness she realised that her dangling foot was firmly encased in a shoe and there was a sharp point on her cheek indicating her earrings were in. An experimental shuffle of her legs told her the dress was still on too. What on earth? This was ridiculous, drinking herself into a stupor and relying on the kindness of people she barely knew to bring her home? What was wrong with her?

__

_‘That is a very stupid question,’ her rational inner self pointed out._

_‘Shut up,’ the hungover, angry at herself inner voice snarled._

_There was a distinct sniff of annoyance, ‘Still feeling sorry for yourself? I know, why don’t you see if another drink will help?’_

She rolled over with a groan. 

“Good morning," a woman's voice said, "There’s a cup of tea here if you would like it.” 

The promise of a beverage was enough to tempt her to open her eyes and she saw the cup of much needed comfort gently steaming on the bedside table. Suddenly she was flooded with memories of sweet Dot, calmly competent Mr B, caustically inappropriate Mac, and tears started to well in her eyes. How she wished she was home. In Melbourne. With them. And...

She shuffled herself slowly up into an attempt at sitting and reached out an unsteady hand for the cup and saucer.

Taking a deep gulp, she immediately regretted it and only the thought of Aunt P’s disapproving stare stopped her from spitting it straight out.

Seeing her discomfort a pair of hands took the cup and saucer from her, “Perhaps you should try and sleep some more?” the voice said kindly, placing the tea back on the bedside table.

Phryne nodded, collapsing onto her side, kicking off her shoe and curling in on herself. Was it not bad enough that she had made the worst mistake of her life in letting him go? But now - she glared resentfully at the cup - things had just gone from bad to worse. How on earth had the water in that cup been heated? And dear God, what had she done to deserve that on top of everything else?


	2. ...I was given a beautiful pair of earrings...

Eventually, the challenge of staring at the four walls of his cabin resolutely _not_ thinking of her defeated him, and he headed out in search of diversion.

He started on the promenade but it was bustling with happy holidaymakers and so, seeking a quieter environment, he headed to the Reading Room. Settling down into a comfortable chair he was pleased to find only one other occupant. After a while, his attention wandered from the random book he had picked up and he found himself studying the behaviour of his fellow traveler. A pack of cards was laid out on the table in front of her. She would pick one up, consider it carefully and then speak a phrase silently. The card would be turned over and there would be a smile or frown. Jack was fascinated and he tried to work out what was on the cards but the symbols were unfamiliar.

“They’re flash cards.”

Jack looked up to find a friendly gaze above a gentle smile. “Sorry, that was incredibly rude of me,” he apologised.

“I don’t mind, I’ve been doing this by myself for over thirty minutes, it’s nice to take a break.” She indicated the chair beside her, “If you’re interested I can explain.”

Jack immediately liked this quietly spoken woman and he had always had a thirst for knowledge. Smiling, he accepted her offer. 

Five minutes later he was enjoying his first lesson in Japanese. 


	3. ...Then I lost one...

Phryne opened her eyes again. She had managed a bit more sleep and her headache had eased some. And anyway that was nothing compared to... she clenched her fists, feeling the nails dig into the flesh on her palms. _Damn it, Jack - it had all been going so well and then you had to ruin it!_

Deep down she knew that was an over-simplification but, as there were only two people involved and she didn’t want to be to blame, it must have been his fault. Her thoughts drifted back to yesterday afternoon when, somewhere between proving exactly why being together was such a good idea and getting out of bed to ready themselves for dinner with friends, Jack’s grip on sanity had slipped.

“When we get back to Melbourne, this is going to be a problem,” he said nonchalantly.

“Why?” she asked, her head resting on his chest where she was currently busy drawing love hearts with her fingers.

“Because we won’t be free to be together like this.”

She shrugged, “Nobody will care.”

“The Honourable Phryne Fisher sleeping with a divorced police man? The Melbourne Society commentators are going to have a field day.”

She stilled her fingers. He sounded serious. “Does that matter?”

“We won’t get a moments peace. Everyone will have an opinion.”

“I don’t care what other people think. I’ve never cared.” Her fingers began moving again.

“You don’t care what your Aunt and other friends think?”

“Aunt P adores you Jack. And the only friends I care about do as well. The rest can go hang.”

“So you’re prepared to lose your standing in Society – to be with me?”

“Of course.”

“And have you considered how this might impact your investigations?”

She sat up. “Why would it impact my investigations?”

“How often have your Society connections helped you clinch an investigation?”

She tilted her head, he had a point. It wasn’t something that she used all the time but it was true that those gentle tugs at Society connections had smoothed the way more than once. It was not something she was prepared to give up easily. “And your solution?” she guessed he wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise.

He settled her back down on his chest and stroked his hand along her shoulder. “I was thinking we could get engaged.”

His arm went flying as she shot back up. “What!”

“I just thought…”

“You thought you should tie me to you, have control of me?”

Jack sat up, his concern obvious, “What? No, I’m just saying…”

“You’re saying it’s not enough that I choose to be with you, you want to brand me so everyone knows I belong to you.”

“Don’t be…”

“No, Jack. That is not happening - not now, not ever. I thought you understood.” She started to get out of bed, furiously grabbing her clothes from the ground.

He stretched his hand out to her, “Phryne, wait. I’m not saying we need to get married, it’s just we’ll have more freedom to be together if we’re engaged.”

She was standing fully dressed beside the bed, eyes blazing, “Well, thank you, Jack I’ve heard your solution so here’s mine for your consideration. We are not doing this anymore. I think you can agree that solves all our problems.”

She stalked to the door and slammed it very hard behind her.


	4. …Though we searched everywhere we couldn't find it…

“…and so now I’m on my way to Japan to teach English, or rather American,” she corrected herself.

Jack looked at his new friend across the luncheon table in open admiration, she was embarking on an adventure that he understood completely.

They ate in silence for a while. Jack was enjoying a perfectly cooked steak that had been prepared for him by the Head Chef. Somewhat surprisingly, she had come bustling over to their table almost as soon as they sat down and declared that he looked in need of a good steak meal. It was as if she had read his mind and the steak she served up for him was the best he had ever had. He wasn’t sure why she had singled him out for this attention but he hoped it would continue. When he had cleared his plate he sat back with a satisfied grin on his face, ready to face the world again.

Amused by the obvious enjoyment he took in eating, his friend continued the conversation, “So tell me, Jack. What brings you here? On your own, on a ship bound for Hawaii?” 

“I’m heading home to Melbourne, Australia.”

“That tells me where you’re going but not why,” she pointed out.

Whether it was the good food or the company, he wasn’t sure but he found himself admitting, “There was a woman.”

She looked at him, intrigued, “And there isn’t anymore?”

He shook his head, “No, she’s very much still there – just not with me. It’s going to take a while to get used to that idea.”

“Oh,” she said delicately.

“Yes. Oh,” he agreed. Looking to change the subject he started to tell her about his life in Melbourne, his garden, his job… and then, before he knew it, he was telling her all about Phryne. 

Wincing as he came to the end of his tale, she said, “It’s early days and perhaps… I mean I don’t know her obviously… but from what you have told me, she cares for you very deeply. So perhaps, this is all a misunderstanding.”

Whilst he didn’t think it very likely, he was touched by her genuine hope that things would end happily for them. “Perhaps,” he said.

She smiled knowingly, “You’d be surprised how often it is a case of simple miscommunication, I read about this sort of thing all the time.” 

Nodding doubtfully Jack decided talking about her wasn’t going to change things, “I was thinking of going upstairs to get some air. Would you care to join me?” he asked.

“Yes a stroll would be good after that meal, just let me…” she reached behind for her shawl and her voice faded away, “oh no.”

Jack was immediately concerned, “Is something the matter? Can I help?”

She held out her shawl sadly, “I’ve lost my brooch. It was on here… and now… it’s not.”

If there was one thing Jack understood, it was the sentimental value of a brooch, “When did you last see it? We can retrace your steps and then we’ll report it to the Purser, someone may already have handed it in.”

Her face brightened, “Do you think so?” She tilted her head thinking hard… “We were in the Reading Room obviously, and before that I had been on a deck chair on the promenade… I did get up and move at one point because there were two children running around. Not that I mind children,” she explained, “it’s just I was reading and one of them ran into my chair…”

Jack’s eyes tightened, “One of the children ran into your chair? Was your shawl on the back of your chair by any chance?”

“Yes, how did you…” the penny dropped, “Oh. I’m sure that’s not right. She was such a sweet looking thing.”

He shook his head knowingly, “Those are exactly the ones you need to look out for - believe me. Come on.”

****  


The annoying thing about drinking yourself near catatonic, reflected Phryne, is the way little glimpses of the previous night come back to haunt you. Never the full picture, but everything wildly out of context and strangely disembodied.

Like now, she could distinctly remember a slender body encased in red sequins, pale arm raised high in the air, head thrown back, declaring to the world, “Spiced rum or bourbon… it’s all just semantics…" before turning to her to whisper loudly, "and darling, no one wants to talk about Jews at 3 o’clock in the morning in Vegas.”

Later, much later, there was the kindly gentleman (he reminded her ever so much of Mr B) who had picked her up off the floor where she had inelegantly sprawled. “Come along, my dear,” he had said, guiding her to a group of women Jack and she had met previously, “let's find you a bed for the night and we’ll sort this all out tomorrow.” 

In fact the last thing she could coherently remember was watching a couple on the dance floor. There had been a tall man dancing with a dark haired beauty and she had thought, ‘That’s what Jack and I look like when we dance’ and it made her happy. Perhaps she’d been too hasty, she glanced up at the clock, he’d probably be back at their hotel room doing the last of his packing for the boat. The boat they were supposed to be catching together because his leave was over and he had a job to get back to. She could go to him. He’d forgive her outburst and they could work it out.

She almost went back to him. Almost but then a man that looked like Cec cut into the dance she had been watching. And the dark haired woman had smiled with pleasure as he held her close and whispered in her ear. Phryne looked back, expecting to see the tall man standing alone. Sad. Instead he already had another dark haired beauty in his arms and she was in a dress that shimmered all the colours of the ocean, long hair unbound falling in waves down her back. And they looked perfect together.

That was it. The point at which she had made the ridiculously melodramatic decision that, no matter how much she wanted to be, she simply wasn’t the right mermaid... what? She wasn’t the right _woman_ for him. She needed to set him free. An image of Jack, as he been that day at Queenscliff, diving in the crystal blue ocean looking, not for a dagger but for his underwater true love, popped into her head and at this point she realised she might be slightly more drunk than she had thought. 

After that things got decidely hazy and she saw herself arm in arm with Red Sequins stumbling between casinos; with Sequins shouting gleefully, “Onwards and upwards, or downwards and inwards – whatever takes your fancy!” 

She smiled, whilst she could do without the headache (and the aching heart) - last night had certainly been a blast. She rolled over and closed her eyes again.


	5. …But I kept hoping…

Following an unsuccessful search of the Reading Room, they found themselves on the promenade. And it wasn’t a moment too soon. The Purser had two children by the scruffs of their necks. Jack glanced at his friend, she nodded.

“Beg your pardon, Sir,” the Purser said as Jack approached, “are these imps anything to do with you? Only they’ve been running around the promenade disturbing the other guests.”

“Not strictly speaking, though I believe they may be able to assist my companion.”

The young girl, in clean though slightly worn clothes, looked up quickly. Jack noted that she recognised the woman straight away but the boy, better dressed and with his hair carefully combed, made the connection slightly slower. The girl was the ringleader then.

“We found a…” the boy started, “ouch!” he continued, having got a sharp kick in the shin. The girl looked at Jack with a face so full of innocence that he couldn’t help but smile.

“My friend has lost a brooch," Jack informed the Purser.

The Purser turned to Jack’s companion, “I’m very sorry to hear that Miss, have you reported it yet?”

She shook her head and began to provide a detailed description of the brooch.

Jack watched the children with interest, as the boy mouthed, ‘Tell them’ and the girl replied in an equally silent yell ‘No!’. At the same time both children realised Jack’s eyes were on them. The boy gave her a look that said ‘you have to now’. She replied with a look that said ‘sod off’.

“We found a brooch. That’s why we were running. To hand it in,” the girl said, lifting her chin defiantly, daring Jack to call her a liar. 

“May I see it?” asked the gentle voice from beside him, “It’s just I have lost one that was a gift from a dear friend - so it’s very special.”

Looking remorseful the girl put a grubby hand in a pocket and held out a gold, pearl and diamond broach. Jack was shocked, the way she had spoken about it and handled it’s loss he had somehow formed the impression it was just a trinket. “Is this it, Miss?” the girl asked, adding, “It’s very pretty.”

“Oh,” her delight was obvious, “it is!” She took the proffered item, stroking it gently and smiling sweetly, “It means so much that you have given it back - I mean, found it.”

“I think, in the circumstances,” Jack suggested to the Purser, “ the children could be forgiven a bit of over exuberance.” He turned his gaze sternly back to the children, particularly the girl, “Provided they understand what they did was wrong and they don’t ‘run’ again.”

Both children nodded enthusiastically. Jack raised his eyebrows at the girl, she pouted and mouthed ‘Yes, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. But it was pretty’.

The Purser, clearly relieved to have the fate of the children decided for him released them, before wandering away himself.

“Are you sure you want to leave it at that? It’s a valuable piece of jewelry,” Jack said.

She nodded her head, “She wasn’t to know that, she just thought it pretty.”

He considered the situation, it had the hallmarks of an opportunistic crime on the part of the girl. And he’d like to think that the boy would, eventually, have convinced her to hand it in. Though, if the worst thing she ever did to him was bruise his shin, he could consider himself lucky. “I agree.”

“Good, ‘All’s well that ends well’, as they say.”

Jack, thinking he could easily go the rest of his life without hearing another quote from Shakespeare, smiled politely and started to walk again.

As they rounded the next corner he noticed a woman sitting quietly in a deck chair with material draped across her knee which she appeared to be sewing. Noticing his gaze his companion whispered, “She’s quilting.”

The woman looked up and Jack, recognising the Head Chef from earlier, stopped to thank her for the delicious steak. "I’m glad you liked it,” she said as she began to pack up, “I’ve prepared you a special meal for tonight, so when you order tell them you’re there for the Chef’s Delight. They’ll know what to bring.” She shivered as the breeze picked up, "When you get the wind blow like that a job indoors is certainly something to be thankful for. Speaking of which, I must get back. Excuse me.” 

“There’s something about that woman I really like,” Jack said as he watched her leave.

“Well, at least we know you won’t pine away from hunger anytime soon,” teased his friend.

*****

Phryne finally emerged from the borrowed bedroom in the evening to find a gathering of ten women in the hotel suite.

“Hello again,” the same lovely lady got up and began to clear a chair for her, “Do join us. This is our little book club.”

A general murmur of welcome and friendly smiles came from the group.

“We’re re-reading Shakespeare’s plays,” she explained, “each week we read a different one and then gather to discuss it. When we’ve gone through them all we start at the beginning again. Tonight it’s Antony and Cleopatra.” 

A slightly stunned Phryne accepted the book and the seat. It was as if the universe was making a point, Shakespeare wrote - what 37 plays? And they just happened to be reading this one today? She nodded to herself, message received and understood, she’d made a mistake but it wasn’t too late. She could fix this. “I wonder, does anyone know the very dapper gent that helped me here last night?”

One of the ladies, spoke up, “I do. Would you like me to take you to him?”

Phryne stood, the lady who had spoken had the same sweet demeanor as dear Dot, and so she planted a kiss on her forehead. “That is exactly what I need,” she said smiling.


	6. …Someone would find it and take care of it…

“Excuse me, Miss Fisher?”

Phryne, walking past the hotel reception desk, turned back to the friendly Bellhop who had called out to her.

“A gentleman left this for you this morning. I’m sorry but we couldn’t find you earlier.” He handed over a small box and an envelope.

Thanking him she turned the envelope and immediately recognised the chicken scrawl. Spotting a quiet alcove she sat down to find out exactly how much damage her thoughtless reaction had inflicted.

_Phryne,_

_In case you change your mind – on either count._

_Jack._

She chuckled softly, how surprising to find he was as perfectly inscrutable in writing as he was in person. The envelope also contained her boarding pass for the ship and so all that remained was the small box that accompanied his heart felt epistle. She had a fair inkling what it might contain, because Jack was not a man that would speak without having prepared first, no matter how nonchalant his proposal had seemed. Taking a deep breath she opened the box. 

_Damn!_

She snapped the box shut. Her hand tightened around it and tears welled in her eyes. The ring was beautiful and she had seen it before. He had in fact given it to her once before, in England when he was undercover on a case. However, at the time she had been under the impression it, and the accompanying origin story, had been supplied by MI6. Now she knew it _was_ his Grandmother’s ring and he had brought it all the way from Melbourne for her. And he had waited and hoped all this time. Only to have her storm off the moment he had suggested the compromise - the perfectly reasonable compromise that was the obvious solution to their situation. So now, instead of being together on a cruise across the Pacific enjoying their new status as a socially acceptable couple, he was sitting in a ‘far too large for one’ first class suite somewhere on the ocean, and she was still in Vegas. 

_You idiot, Phryne!_

“Miss Fisher?”

She looked up to see her rescuer from the previous night.

“Are you alright?” he asked his voice full of concern.

She gave him a small smile, “No. But I will be. If you’ll help me?” She popped the envelope and box into her handbag.

“I was hoping you’d feel like that. I have a friend I’d like you to meet. She has…” he lowered his voice and glanced quickly around the hotel lobby, “…connections.”

Phryne raised an eyebrow, now that was the sort woman she liked to meet.

“Lead on Mr B.”

He gave her a puzzled smile, “You kept calling me that when I was helping you last night? Should I ask?”

“No, it’s probably too complicated but believe me - it’s definitely a compliment.”

Thirty minutes later she found herself standing outside a bookshop away from the bright lights of the strip. ‘Mr B’ held the door open for her, “After you Miss Fisher, they’re expecting us.”

_‘They?’_ She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. Any trepidation soon passed however when she found herself in a cheery well-lit cafe with a scattering of cookery and other books artfully presented rather than the dark stuffy tome filled room she had been expecting. There were also two elegant women sitting at a table upon which a substantial and delicious high tea was set out. Phryne and ‘Mr B’ took the seats indicated. 

“Miss Fisher,” began the lady with a cute dark bob and charming cream hat, “I understand from my friend,” she smiled at Mr B, “that I may be of service to you. But before we begin, would you mind if we poured the tea? It’s such a terrible shame if it’s left to stew,” she actually cringed at the thought and began immediately to pour. “Now, you mustn’t worry about speaking openly before my companion, she is both an avid tea drinker and the Head of Security for this shop and all my business interests. It is so nice when you can mix business with pleasure don’t you find." She gave Phryne a knowing look, “But of course you do, how silly of me.” She sat back happily with her beautiful bone china tea cup and saucer, “I’m given to understand the Inspector is your business partner as well as your…” she paused delicately. 

“My fiance,” Phryne, placing a cube of sugar into her black tea, found herself oddly pleased to be able to supply an actual definition of her relationship to Jack. 

The ladies shared a glance as they sipped delicately from their cups.

“Oh, indeed I was not aware of that,” the cream hat tilted as though considering the implications of this statement.

“It is a recent development,” Phryne assured them. She didn’t bother to mention the minor technicality that one party was not in fact aware of this change in their relationship.

The Head of Security leaned forward to place a dainty scone on her plate, “It seems careless to have let one’s fiance board a boat on his own,” she noted as she deftly split the scone in two with one stroke of the butter knife.

This discreet display of competence with knives was not lost on Phryne. “I admit I was not thinking straight at the time,” she said, carefully chancing a small sip of the tea. Her timid approach proved unnecessary, the tea was full bodied and immensely satisfying. A wide smile of pleasure formed on her face, “This is by far the best tea I have had since Melbourne,” she acknowledged. In actual fact it might have been the best she had ever tasted but to say so seemed disloyal to Dot.

The cream hat bobbed, accepting the compliment. “Do try the salmon sandwiches, they are divine,” she invited, turning the tiered cake stand to make it easy for Phryne to reach them. “Now, I understand your fiance left this morning from San Francisco and it is a four day trip to Hawaii. As a pilot you know it’s not a safe journey to make by air.”

Phryne nodded, the fiasco in 1927 when a dozen people died in a competition to fly from California to Honolulu was a dark day in aviation history. She was also becoming slightly uncomfortable with how much these ladies appeared to know about herself and Jack.

“I believe we need to attack this from two angles, I can get you on a flight to San Francisco leaving in three hours and from there a fast cargo boat that will set sail as soon as you board. You’ll obviously want to be rested and looking your best, so if you’re to get there…” she looked at her companion, “…say a day earlier than the cruise ship?” The Head of Security nodded. “Good, that means we'll only need to delay the cruise ship overnight. That sounds perfectly manageable.”

The Head of Security smiled sweetly in agreement.

Phryne blinked. It wasn’t everyday you sat down to tea and cakes with a woman who had the power to delay an international cruise ship. “Thank you that sounds wonderful.” She paused for dramatic effect, “I wonder, is there any service I can offer in return for this generous assistance?”

The cream hat smiled, “Well, as you have been so good as to mention it…”

*****

Jack, eager to exercise in order to continue to enjoy the delicious meals he was being served up, found himself poolside almost twenty minutes early. The only spare deck chair put him beside a coterie of efficient looking women, sunning themselves whilst surrounded by books, letters and various other forms of documentation. Whilst not intending to eavesdrop, their tendency to speak in excited tones made it impossible not to overhear their conversation. And so he learned that, having just run a successful convention in the US on topics of female interest, they were now heading to Europe to meet with a group of like-minded women to discuss doing the same there. Phryne would have adored them, he thought, they were just like that club she belonged to back in Melbourne. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised to find it was an international organisation. He sighed, he had to stop thinking about her, it wasn't helping. To his relief he saw his swimming partner arrive. 

As he stood and divested himself of his outer garments he noticed that, the almost incessant chatter beside him, had stopped. Concerned, he turned towards the ladies – only to find they were all staring appreciatively at him. He swallowed hard, gave a shy smile and, as quickly as he could without breaking into a run, moved to the pool. There was no doubt that the modern woman was a complex mix of capability, competence and straightforward determination to have fun, and this, he reflected, could be somewhat overwhelming to a mere male.

“Are you alright?” his friend asked, concerned by his heightened colour.

He glanced involuntarily at the women, who had returned to their conversation.

“Oh,” she smiled.

“Are they like that with every man?”

Her smile widened, “I expect not,” then, continuing before he had time to consider her comment, she asked, "Shall we start with ten laps of American Crawl?”

“American Crawl? Surely you mean Australian Crawl?” he corrected her, grinning.

“Let’s compromise and do ten laps of Crawl,” she suggested, diving lightly into the pool.


	7. ...Until they could send it back to me...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To create drama I have taken four of the nicest people and made them slightly dark and sinister... I apologise in advance for this outrageous liberty though at the same time have to say it was rather fun - LOL

It was close to midnight when Phryne boarded the ship, with more than a touch of trepidation. The ladies from the bookshop had asked her to uncover the identity of a woman interfering in their business interests. They believed that at least one of their employees was also working for this woman, providing insider information and undermining the success of some of their recent ventures. Phryne suspected none of this had anything to do with the selling of books. The fact that she was currently dressed in dungarees and was about to join a troupe of entertainers embarking on a world tour seemed to support this theory. Her guess was they were involved in smuggling of some sort.

“Miss Fisher?”

Phryne found herself being addressed by a woman with a large white parrot on her shoulder.

“You're to help me tend the animals," the woman continued, "and," she glanced around significantly, "it would be best that you don't mention 'The Ladies' to anyone."

Phryne nodded her understanding, the tone in which the woman had referred to 'The Ladies', confirming her opinion that the bookstore was not the main source of income for either lady. It would be prudent, she decided, to keep her options open in respect of handing the name over. She followed her welcome committee of one, well two if you counted the parrot, down into the depths of the ship.

*****

At five o’clock the next morning she lay on a single bunk in a cabin shared with five other woman, thinking wistfully of Jack all alone in his luxurious first class suite. If she had needed further convincing she had made the wrong decision in not going with him… this was probably it.

“Miss Fisher?”

Phryne peered over the edge of her bed to see the woman from last night fully clothed (with parrot) and looking up at her apologetically, “We need to go feed the animals.”

Climbing down Phryne was thankful that she hadn't bothered to get undressed the night before as she shoved her feet into cold boots, grabbed her jacket and followed her new friend out the door. It was hard and dirty work and three hours later an exhausted Phryne stood in the canteen line staring at the food, literally so hungry she couldn't decide where to start.

“Do you intend to stand there dreaming all day?” demanded a brusque woman behind her.

Phryne shook her head and stepped aside to let the woman pass. She cringed when she saw the woman was wearing a large spider shaped brooch.

Fortunately, the parrot (and woman) gave way too and so was now between her and the spider in the line. “She doesn’t much like people, apart from that she is really nice but probably best you stay away from her. Come on, let’s eat.”

Given her choice of personal adornments, Phryne was more than happy to give spider woman a wide berth. She filled her plate to a degree that would have made Jack proud and sat down to review what she had learned this morning. She had been introduced earlier to the three Vets on board the ship and her companion had whispered that it was one of these women that 'The Ladies' suspected of being the double agent. They were Canadians and so, unsurprisingly, all three of them were absolutely adorable. Just then a gale of laughter swept the room and she looked across to see a table full of beautifully presented women.

"Gorgeous aren't they? They're the dancers in the Duchess' Den of Delights," her new friend said.

Suddenly Phryne was very conscious of how utilitarian her own clothes were. She wondered whether, if she showed the Duchess her fan dance, she could get upgraded to a dancer for the duration of the journey. It would certainly be easier work than her current under cover story.

The parrot tapped her on her shoulder with a claw, “Oi, 'ave a look, 'ave a look," it squawked.

She looked down at a series of prints the woman had spread on the table in front of her. “Nice,” she said. They were pleasant enough watercolours of a well dressed couple in a close embrace. It appeared they were waiting for a cab. Having successfully hailed a cab they climbed into the back seat. They cuddled and a fair amount of leg on the part of the woman was displayed. Then, as she clambered over her male companion she was displaying a fair bit more. Phryne's eyebrows rose – that was not the conventional way to behave in a cab. She turned her head on the side as she examined the next image - and that did not look like the most comfortable position for the woman’s neck. “I don’t actually think that is physically possible in any car I’ve ever seen,” she remarked.

The woman giggled, “I know but it’d be worth a try, don’t you think?”

Phryne considered the last group of prints again, there was certainly a manoeuvre or two that she wouldn't mind trying with Jack. “They show a degree of _artistic_ merit I can admire. Where on earth did you get them?” she asked.

Her companion laughed as she gathered them up, pushing them towards Phryne. “Here, keep them for _research_ purposes and lets just say they are part of a sideline business.”

Phryne nodded knowingly, it was a surprisingly pleasant way to learn that the 'The Ladies' were involved in smuggling erotica. “Thank you, it’s always good to find someone who is as committed to the advance of _science_ as myself.” Phryne chuckled as she slipped the prints into her jacket pocket. This woman had all the hallmarks of being delightfully distracting company.

*****

Five o’clock the next morning found Phryne in a cold passageway. Whilst it had been easy to strike up conversation with the Canadians she hadn’t made any headway with uncovering the name. It was time for a bold move. _‘You mean reckless,’ said her imaginary Jack_ , who she promptly _imaginary_ ignored - as she continued picking the lock to the Vet’s office. Once in she opened the filing cabinet and started shuffling through the paperwork. Nothing. She jemmied open the drawer of the desk. Nothing. She looked around the office – it was difficult to know where else to search when you weren’t sure what you were looking for.

“If it’s drugs you’re after the key is under the pot plant,” a voice said helpfully from behind her.

Phryne didn’t turn around, “Thank you, but that wasn’t what I was looking for.”

“Oh? Good, it would have been slightly disappointing to find you were just an addict.”

Phryne stood still, uncertain what her next move should be.

“Sorry, don’t let me interrupt you. As long as you put everything back tidily I’m not worried.”

“I take it from that, that you know what I’m looking for and I’m not going to find it.”

“Good logic. You’re as clever as I was told Miss Fisher.”

This was beyond the pale – did everyone in America know who she was? She spun round to find all three Canadians behind her.

“We came through the secret door behind the tapestry,” one of them told her conversationally, “when you tripped the silent alarm by opening the cabinet.”

She nodded, so there was something to hide. What had she missed, she wondered.

“Now, I’m terribly sorry about this but… we have orders to remove you from the equation. We would have preferred to have given you a quick and painless death…”

“… a shot to the head and then throwing your body overboard…” said the second Canadian helpfully.

“… or a bit too much chloroform and pushing you down some stairs…” suggested the third Canadian, keen for it to be clear that a great deal of thought had been given to this.

“…but we’ve been told to send a message to ‘The Ladies’ so I'm afraid it needs to be more dramatic than that,” the first Canadian finished. She sighed before continuing sadly, “As it happens, one of our animals has been infected with rabies, there's no cure so we have no choice except to put it down but first you're going to have an extremely unfortunate accident when you're cleaning out one of the stalls.”

“Regrettably, death from rabies is slow and painful,” said the second Canadian equally sad.

The third Canadian actually had tears in her eyes as she clarified, “For both you and the poor animal.”

"Don't be melodramatic," said the first Canadian, in a no nonsense tone, "there's no need for any suffering. We'll put the animal down as soon as it has bitten you, Miss Fisher, and then give you sufficient morphine that you can't feel a thing - or talk."

"Thank you, that's very considerate." Phryne had felt a response of some sort was required from her and, for people who were about to kill her, they were being awfully nice about it. But then, they were Canadian. They politely escorted her to a room in the very depths of the ship, locked her in a dim, straw covered stall and explained they’d be letting the infected animal in shortly through a door at the other end of the room. With a final profuse apology they left.

Phryne, searching desperately for something to defend herself with, saw a shovel and scrambled for it. This was going to be alright she told herself, all she had to do was hit the beast hard enough to give it pause, and then keep hitting it. She gripped the handle of the shovel, aware that normally she would be more relaxed because Jack would be only seconds away, ready to back her up if required. This time though she was on her own.

The sound of scuffling at the far end of the room made her focus.

“Come on then,” she called out.

Then she saw the outline of something, eyes unnaturally bright, hackles up and mouth foaming. Oh, this could be harder than she had hoped, whatever it was - it was small, looked fast and she would likely have only one swing at it. It screeched and launched itself at her, she swung the shovel back, felt a jolt to her side and suddenly found herself falling. Shit! She had somehow lost her balance and with it her one chance.

There was a gun shot, a squeal and a parrot screamed.

Phryne blinked as light flooded in from the open door.

“Miss Fisher? Are you alright?” the parrot asked her.

She nodded to the parrot, disorientated and trying to piece together what had just happened. Just behind the parrot she could see spider woman lowering a smoking gun. Following the direction of the muzzle she saw the remains of her fearsome opponent. She felt laughter swell up and then overflow.

The spider woman threw her a look of utter contempt. “This is a tragedy – you should not be laughing,” she spat as she bent down, carefully wrapped the body of the hamster in her scarf and walked away.

Phryne tried to stifle her admittedly inappropriate laughter. “How did you find me?” a still slightly light headed Phryne asked the parrot.

“I followed you,” the woman, not the parrot, replied, “I was told to keep an eye on you by ‘The Ladies’ so my friend and I followed you.”

“The spider woman has friends?” Phryne said incredulously. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it. “Come on, we need to get back to the office. I know where the name is.”

This time Phryne pulled the cabinet to pieces methodically, locating first the alarm mechanism and then the false front of the drawer. Inside were five telegrams sent over five months containing five different coded messages… _soul mates, miscommunication, bottle, body swap, hurt/comfort._ And there in meticulous handwriting was the name. She considered whether to hand it over to 'The Ladies' and found, on balance, the order to kill her weighed quite heavily against the woman. She had no idea what the messages meant, who the woman was or how her path had crossed with that of 'The Ladies'. And she didn't care, well that wasn't quite true. “Do you know what happened to the Canadians?”

A shrug in response, “They’ve vanished.”

Phryne thought back to the secret door, they could literally be anywhere on the ship and, apart from trying to kill her as ordered, they hadn’t done anything wrong. And they had been terribly apologetic about that anyway. But really, none of this was her problem. What she needed to focus on now was finding a hot bath, getting some sleep and planning the entire wardrobe she needed to purchase in Honolulu tomorrow. If she still hadn't made up her mind after all that she would talk things through with Jack and come to a decision.


	8. ...And they did.

Walking down the gangway Jack glanced at his companion, they had planned a day sightseeing in Honolulu but engine troubles meant they were getting in with just enough time for her to change ships for her onward journey. It was a shame they were parting ways and he was not looking forward to spending the remainder of his trip alone.

As though she read his mind she gave him a reassuring look, "You've still got the Head Chef."

This, he thought, was very true and important.

Below them Pier 10 was bustling with passengers, crew, hawkers and cargo. They both searched for anything amongst the chaos that would help them find the ship to Japan. As they reached the dock they were slowed down by people gathering around a stall selling puppets where two women chatted away, giggling as they made the brightly coloured toys move.

Finding a path through the jostling crowd, eyes flicking from side to side as he looked for someone in authority, Jack noticed a dark haired woman holding court in one of the many bars vying for trade. Surrounded by overattentive men in uniform she exuded that attractive, easy confidence of a woman who knew her own mind. Though her back was to him he knew her eyes would be sparkling, lips glistening and every man there would be hoping it was him she was really talking to. Moving swiftly on he shook his head and wondered how long it would be before he stopped seeing _her_ everywhere. Or if he ever would.

Less than a second later he swung back round. “Phryne?”

“Jack!” She turned immediately at the sound of his voice, eyes sparkling and lips glistening. Extricating herself from the fawning men, she made her way through the tables to stand in front of him, cool, calm, and as if her being in Hawaii was the most natural thing in the world.

“Jack, honestly it's taken you so long to get here I was starting to worry you’d been attacked by pirates. Whilst I'm glad to see that's not the case, I must confess,” she lowered her voice, leaning indecently close to let her breath drift sensuously across his ear, “the image of you turned swashbuckler on the high seas is absolutely delicious.”

Jack blushed.

“Oh, hello,” Phryne, having just noticed he had company, stuck out her hand, “The Honourable Phryne Fisher…”

“…Lady Detective. I’ve heard all about you and it is such a pleasure to meet you.” Phryne found her hand shaken in a very enthusiastic manner by the woman beside him.

Jack was about to introduce his friend when she pointed at an anxious looking man in uniform not too far away, and said, “That's my name, on the sign he's holding, I better go but…” she scrambled around in the pockets of her skirt, drawing out a pen and card, “… this is my address in Japan.” She handed it to him, “You must let me know how it goes."

Phryne watched her walk away before turning to Jack. “Interesting woman,” she said.

He was holding the card in his hand, it had her details on one side and the Japanese symbol for happiness on the other. “She is rather wonderful,” he agreed as he popped the card in his waistcoat pocket.

Phryne put her arm through his and he found himself strolling with her along the dock.

“I’m slightly confused,” he admitted after a while.

“Oh?”

“I was under the impression that we were not doing this anymore. Given the last time we spoke you quite clearly made the point that ‘we were not doing this anymore’.”

“Well, I may have been slightly hasty,” she said, not quite able to disguise the twitch of her eye as a flutter of her eyelashes.

“Oh?” The outside corner of his mouth began to rise in the almost smile he reserved only for her.

“Given time to reflect, I can see that the decision that ‘we were not doing this anymore’ was perhaps wrong.” She drew them to a stop and stared out to sea. “There’s a whole world out there, Jack… and I have seen quite a lot of it - mostly ocean – but turns out I’d rather be with you. If you still want me, that is.”

“And the issues? The ones we were discussing?” he enquired.

She kept her eyes on the horizon, “Well… I was thinking your solution had some merit and…” she held her hand out in front of them and he saw that she was wearing his ring, “…it really does suit the colour of my eyes.”

He nodded, watching her face closely, “It does suit you. But what about the man that comes with it?”

She turned her eyes to meet his, “Oh, that’s the easy part," she said, "I have decided he suits me very well indeed.”

Jack smiled.

❤️❤️❤️The End❤️❤️❤️


	9. Cast in Order of Appearance

_So, the other day when I was in Vegas I was given a beautiful pair of earrings, then I lost one. Though we searched everywhere we couldn't find it but I kept hoping someone would find it and take care of it until they could send it back to me. And they did._

So this little fic is my way of thanking those two wonderful people... @doctor_hex for finding my earring and @leafingbookstea for working out it was mine and sending it back to me.

Also, endless hugs to @221a_brina for finding the time in her ridiculously busy life to brainstorm, solve plot issues, correct poor spelling and grammar and - most importantly - laugh with me as we pulled this together.

My 'things to do in Vegas' recommendations:  
1\. _The Titanic Exhibition at the Luxor_ try to avoid inappropriate laughter but do look out for the wonderful phrase 'quietly flamboyant'.  
2\. _The Erotica Museum_ but don't touch anything there.  
3\. _High Tea at the Bellagio_ put on your MFMM gear and do your best to 'act' posh. Watch the tea strainers though - those little buggers can be tricky.  
4\. _The Mob Museum_ in old Vegas gangsters, glamour and gore... I mean why wouldn't you?  
5\. _Go with 60 like-minded people_ find a quiet bar, make it rowdy and talk about your favourite fanfics till 3am every morning.

**Chapter One**  
_Woman with tea_ \- @susieq (and no, she did not actually make me a cup of tea in the microwave though she did suggest it!)

**Chapter Two**  
_Woman on ship with Jack_ \- @solitarycyclist (who btw you should blame for my even being at Con because she promised that she would talk to me if I came to Vegas)

**Chapter Three**  
These two beautiful fools didn't need any outside intervention to tear each other apart - sigh... (Obviously it was a bit embarrassing for all of us at Con when they did have the argument)

**Chapter Four**  
_Head Chef_ \- an entirely fictional character based on no one we all know  & love... (what rubbish, of course it's the quietly flamboyant @quiltingmom)  
_Sequins_ \- @knittingmother, there is no one that I could imagine more likely to lead P astray.  
_'Mr B'_ \- @doctor_hex always dapper and ever so gentlemanly  
_Couple on the dance floor that reminds P of her and Jack_ \- @allimarie_xf and @thedoctor  
_Man who cuts into dance (with the result that P changes her mind about making up with J)_ \- @allimarie_xf's husband (I'm not saying he's to blame but if he had just waited another 30 seconds before he cut in...)  
_Woman shimmering all the colours of the ocean_ \- @cowalyn (the last minute mermaid)

**Chapter Five**  
_Over exuberant children_ – just a fun version of young J  & P  
_Book Club_ – that’s all of us at the rewatch  
_Woman with forehead kiss_ – the ever so sweet Laura

**Chapter Six**  
_Bellhop_ – my beloved (and endlessly patient) husband  
_Woman in the cream hat_ \- @leafingbookstea 'Darling, do pass me another watermelon margarita - they are simply divine.' (Later referred to as one of ‘The Ladies’)  
_Head of Security_ \- @inzannatea a woman who truly appreciates a great cup of tea! (Later referred to as the other one of ‘The Ladies’)  
_Coterie of efficient women_ – all the amazing, wondrous, truly incredible women who organised Con  
_Like-minded woman of Europe_ – I could do a roll call but you know if you live in Europe. (But just in case... Brits, for the purposes of this fic you are part of Europe)

**Chapter Seven**  
_Woman with parrot_ \- @djade my partner in distraction so often during Con  
_Woman with spider pin_ \- @federalistdarling a woman who always ‘puts her best foot forward’  
_The Canadians_ \- @gennee27, @apostrophelover and an international woman of mystery whose name I cannot reveal  
_The Duchess_ – @JoeyJoJoJr because everything in life is better with a touch of burlesque glamour  
_The Evil Master Mind whose name Phryne is tasked with finding_ \- @firesign23 no further explanation required, surely.

**Chapter Eight**  
_Two women selling and making the puppets move_ \- The authors, of course

* * *

❤️❤️❤️ **And They All Lived Happily Ever After** ❤️❤️❤️

Here's the note that @leafingbookstea sent with my earring (and of course the Reunion).

 

Psst, before you go... if, like Phryne, you think the image of a swashbuckling Jack on the high seas may be of interest check out  
[Not All Treasure Is Silver and Gold by Sarahtoo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8391514)


End file.
